"Last Words of the Executed" by Robert Elder

Robert K. Elder begins his oddly affecting, 'Last Words of the Executed,' with the final utterance of Marmaduke Stevenson, who was hanged in Boston Common in October of 1659. Stevenson had been exiled from Massachusetts Bay Colony for protesting a law that barred a new religious society, the Quakers. But he had defied the banishment and returned to the colony—a capital offense. At the gallows he told the assembled, “Be it known to all this day, that we suffer not as evil doers, but for conscience (‘) sake; this day we shall be at rest with the Lord."

Elder ends this painstakingly researched chronicle 350 years and hundreds of executions later with the words of Michael P. Delozier, who was put to death in Oklahoma in July 2009. Delozier admitted killing two people during a campsite robbery and then burning their bodies. As lethal injection loomed, he said: “I cannot wait to finish paying this debt I owe so I can apologize to the souls of Mr. Morgan and Mr. Bullard, and ask them to forgive me for taking their lives. To the families of my victims all I can say is I’m sorry for the pain I caused you. I hope my death will bring you some peace."

'Last Words of the Executed' is unlikely to bring peace to its readers—especially those with misgivings about capital punishment. To be sure the book is populated by scores of heinous characters whose absence today does not make one’s heart grow fonder. Many of these murderers took pleasure in their vile acts; and many were unrepentant to the end, including Chicago’s own John Wayne Gacy. On his way to his execution in 1994, the man convicted of killing 33 young boys told a prison guard, “Kiss my ass.”

Gacy confessed to his crimes, but many of those in this book used the opportunity to protest their innocence (and to protest the death penalty). No doubt some were lying, but Elder notes several examples where there were sufficient questions to warrant inclusion on the Center for Wrongful Convictions list of thirty-nine executions that took place “in face of compelling evidence of innocence or serious doubt about guilt.”

Consider the case of Leonel Torres Herrera, who was executed in Texas in 1993 for the murder of a police officer. Herrera’s brother confessed to the crime before he himself was murdered, but the U.S. Supreme Court refused to overturn the conviction or order a new trial. “I am innocent, innocent, innocent,” Herrera proclaimed before receiving his lethal injection. “Continue the struggle for human rights….I am ready.”

Others whom Elder quotes may have committed murder, but should they have been executed? “I would like to thank the people at this institution for taking such good care of me….” Jerome Bowden said before being strapped into the electric chair in Georgia in 1987. “And I hope that by my execution being carried out that it may bring some light to this thing that is wrong. And I would like to have a final prayer with Chaplain if that is possible.” Bowden’s IQ was 65.

In his Introduction, Elder, a former Tribune staff writer, states, “I’ve strived to make this an apolitical volume.” True to his word, he never editorializes. Accompanying the last words of each man and woman is a brief, straightforward description of the crime.

In some cases Elder also presents the details of the execution. The descriptions of botched hangings, electrocutions, and lethal injections are harrowing. After a nurse took more than ten minutes to put the needle into his arm, one inmate uttered his final words, “You doing that right?”

Those with no interest in using the book to make the case against capital punishment (or, for that matter, to justify the death penalty) should still find it worthwhile reading. I hesitate to use the word “entertaining” to describe the text. “Compelling” is more appropriate. Still, it was hard to stifle a smile after learning how one man facing the firing squad in Utah responded when asked if he had a last request. “Why yes, a bulletproof vest,” he replied.

More sobering were the words of inmates who just wanted to be done with it. “I wish you’d hurry up?” John Owens told his executioners in Wyoming in 1886. “I want to get to hell in time for dinner.”

While we hear from historically significant characters like Nathan Hale and those who assassinated presidents Garfield and McKinley, I was moved most by the words of a little known young African American from an upper middle class family. Napoleon Beazley had been president of his senior class and a star athlete. Unfortunately he was also a gun carrying drug dealer who wanted to know what it would feel like to kill another human being. As he faced death by lethal injection in 2002, he said:

"The act I committed to put me here was not just heinous, it was senseless. But the person who committed that act is no longer here—I am. I’m not going to struggle physically against any restraints. I’m not going to shout, use profanity, or make idle threats. Understand though that I’m not only upset, but I‘m saddened by what is happening here tonight. I’m…disappointed that a system that is supposed to uphold and protect what is just and right can be so much like me when I made the same shameful mistake….This conflict hurts us all; there are no sides."

Beazley was a few months short of his 18th birthday when he committed a double murder while stealing a car. He was one of the last juvenile offenders sentenced to death and executed in the United States.

One final word. This book offers a bittersweet bonus: a passionate Foreword by the late Studs Terkel. Elder describes Terkel as his “friend and mentor” and dedicates the book to him.

Steve Fiffer’s books include the memoir, 'Three Quarters, Two Dimes, and a Nickel.'